I savour them; make the killing slow. Life leaks away from succulent meat. I kill by knowing what I need to know.

A million eyes see, but move too slow. On sticky ground I trap their feet. I savour them; make the killing slow.

Here paralysed terror is the afterglow of piercing skins and silent fear. I kill by knowing what I need to know.

Slow death and pain it makes me grow. A Sly, spindly weaver binding fear, I savour them; make the killing slow.

I lure them here, where pleasures flow; they struggle in webs of fly filled air. My delicate walk like creeping in snow.

Stinging poison sticky and slow. Living to nurse them in my care, I savour them; make the killing slow. I kill by knowing what I need to know.By Ivor Griffiths :: Inspired by Theodore Roethke's "The Waking"